Episode 17 Two for the Road
by AMDonahue
Summary: Logan and Falacci investigate the murder of a Canadian couple
1. Chapter 1

**Two for the Road**

**Law and Order: Criminal Intent**

**Episode #17 from 2007 – 2008 Season**

AnneMarie Donahue

**Police Auction Yard**

**St. John's Port, Newfoundland, Canada**

"Our next item is this roomy family camper. Recently repossessed, this is a fine vehicle. Not a thing wrong with it." The auctioneer said in a very thick nasal islander accent. He looked out at the group of thirty people. "What should we start it at?"

"$1,000" a voice in the back shouted.

"Okay, thousand noted." He nodded, "now maybe somebody would like to make a real bid."

The crowd gave a good natured laugh and came alive.

"Two thousand!" A man sitting in the front bid.

"Twenty-five hundred." The older man standing towards the back countered.

The younger man turned and tipped his hat, "three thousand."

"Thirty five." The older man kept up without losing a beat.

The younger man bit his bottom lip and nodded to his friend sitting next to him. "Four thousand.

The man in the back patted his wife's hand. She smiled at the excitement. "Five thousand."

The young man laughed and clapped his hands. He stood up and bowed to the man in the back. The auctioneer announced the winner, and the crowd applauded as the Sheriff of St. John's Port Newfoundland tipped his hat and kissed his wife.

**Fitchburg State College**

**Fitchburg, MA**

"This weekend is gonna rock!" David dropped his books on the floor and turned up the stereo. His RA walked by and eyed the room but shrugged it off and kept walking.

Matt, his roommate looked up from his computer, "I just gotta finisht this."

"Frack that man!" David laughed.

"Nawh, Robert is gonna chew my ass if I don't finish this." Matt turned his attention back to his computer. He was editing a skate video on final cut pro.

"You know we're the only students from here that are going to this thing, like not even the one that are presenting, I mean going."

"Sucks."

"Yeah, Chawla wants us to take the camera and record everything to show off in class." David had sprawled out on his bed.

Matt looked up from his computer and thought for a bit, "cool, road trip documentary."

**Four Point Sheraton Ballroom**

**St. John's Port, Newfoundland, Canada**

"When John came to me and said he was going to retire, all I could think was… Thank God!" A man holding a wine flute said. The room was full of nicely dressed people and many uniformed police officers, as well as several Mounted Police Officers. They laughed at the joke. "I've been trying to start a rum-running racket up here for years and as we all know John St. Clair is the Dudley Do-Right of the islands!"

The crowd laughed at the two men. John, the retiree stood next to his tormentor and in a good nature chucked him on the arm. The audience applauded.

"Chief," a man curve his hand at his mouth and yelled to the stage, "what are you going to do with your retirement?"

The crowd hollered in response, the chief waved down the applause. He stood at the podium, his friend sat down, a little tipsy. The Chief looked over at his wife and winked at her. She smiled that mischievous little elf-smile he noticed on their first date.

"I'm invading America!" The Chief said and the crowd erupted into more laughter and cat-calling.

**Route 2 West**

**North Adams, MA**

David recorded Matt driving on the mini-DV camera loaned to them by the very trusting communications department at Fitchburg State College.

"Well FSC, this is Matt and Dave, and we're going to the Vancouver University Film Festival to showcase our film, "Dead in America." We are the only two students from FSC accepted to this and we're happy to represent our school."

From behind the camera Dave could be heard yelling, "REPRESENT!!!"

Matt rolled his eyes and turned back to the road, "yes, represent indeed."

"What the movie about?" Dave turned serious behind the camera.

"It's a retelling of Night of the Living Dead from the point of the Zombies. However much like NLD this movie is a commentary on the position minorities have in this country. This retelling looks at the welfare system as something that is not helping people out of their economic barriers, but keeping them, literally, fenced in."

"Ah, deep man."

Matt laughed, "shut up."

**St. Clair Residence**

**St. John's Port, Newfoundland, Canada**

"Dah, I'm not happy with you doing this." John JR slapped the camper's side and looked at his father.

"When did you get so big?" The father took his son in a bear hug. "We'll be fine, I've got my sidearm and if anything worse comes along there's always you mother to defend me."

"Oh, not for too long." She walked up behind the two men, and wedged her way in-between them. She kissed her son on the cheek and then patted her husband on the bum. "I'm going to find me some young hot stud in Florida and leave you."

"Ella, you're a treacherous hag and I love you." John said to his wife who kissed him.

John disappeared into the camper.

"We'll be fine." Ella hugged her son, "We'll call you from New Brunswick."

**Public Rest Stop**

**New Rochelle, NY**

David's camera work followed Matt's movements as he tried to understand the map they both faced.

"Put the camera down and help me out, Dave." Matt wouldn't turn around, after four hours of being filmed and three of those spent traveling in circles his patience was wearing thin.

"No, this could turn into a great horror movie." David joked.

Matt looked over to his side, the light from the road was starting to grow dim. He was worried about not finding the campus in time and the thought of driving through upstate New York at night was not pleasant.

"I'm going to ask them." He pointed at the camper parked a piece away from the road.

David followed constantly filming every bouncing step. Matt broke into a jog to cross the street.

"Awesome!" Matt said.

"What?"

Matt pointed at the license plates, "they're Canadians. They'll definitely know how to get there."

"Dude, they're from Newfoundland, that's not anywhere near it."

David's camera followed Matt as he knocked on the thin metal door, waited for an answer. Then Matt walked around to the driver's side window and yelled into the car. David's camera stayed on the original side of the camper, waiting for an answer.

David grew impatient and tried the door. It opened, and the camera moved into the little room. It showed the room torn to shreds, contents from the cabinets split everywhere, clothing torn into disarray and two mutilated bodies on the floor.

The camera fell to the floor as David ran out of the camper to vomit outside.

**Public Rest Stop**

**New Rochelle, NY**

"Two bodies, dead when the initial response arrived." Falacci pointed to the two bodies on the floor of the cramped camper. "The male, took a hell of a beating then finally was shot in the chest. The woman was shot twice in the stomach, but it doesn't look like there was any other abuse."

Logan yawned, not out of disrespect but sheer exhaustion. "Falacci, tell me there's a reason we're here."

Falacci raised her hand and pointed out the window at Matt and Dave standing by a cruiser, "they were found by those two, late yesterday evening. According to them there were no other cars or people around when they stopped here."

"I'm waiting to be impressed." Logan took a final glup from his coffee and looked at Falacci.

She smiled at him and took out her pocket knife. She flicked it open with her thumb and that elicited a raised eyebrow from Logan.

"Logan, have you bothered to look around at this mess?" Falacci walked carefully to the small couch and picked up one of the seat cushions. She stabbed into it and ripped the fabric apart. She stuck her gloved hand inside and pulled out a bag of cocaine. "Impressed yet?"

"Very."

**One Police Plaza**

**Manhattan, NY**

"No ids on the body yet, but Rogers has them and will run through Canada's database." Ross started. He was walking through the bullpen with Logan and Falacci at his side.

"Captain, I understand this should go to Narcotics, but I'd like to keep it." Falacci asked, in a manner altogether unknown to Ross, respectful.

Ross stopped in his tracks and was so taken back that he found himself saying yes before he had thought the matter through. He opened the door to his office, to usher them in. Across the room he spotted Goren and Eames in a heated argument at their desks.

"Just drop it." Goren shouted and walked away, leaving Eames to slump into her desk.

Ross was going to call out to her when Logan cleared his throat behind him.

"I'd let them sort it out." Logan advised.

Ross nodded and moved into the office, closing the door behind him.

"I'm keeping it here for the time being, you and Logan are on it," Ross addressed himself to Falacci. "But understand that if anyone hirer up wants to lay hands on it, we'll play ball."

"You got it." Falacci smiled.

Ross couldn't believe his good fortune; twice in one conversation Falacci had been not only agreeable to actually receptive to him. He would certainly press his luck and talk to Eames in a moment. Of the entire office Eames was the adult.

**Office of the Medical Examiner**

**Manhattan, NY**

"Glad you're here, meet former Chief of Police for St. John's Port Newfoundland." Rogers said pointing at the first body on the slab.

"He was a Mountie?" Falacci asked incredulously.

"Not all the Canadian cops are Mounties, Falacci." Logan said.

"Time of death was between 4 and 5 yesterday. I can't give you a more approximately TOD because of the weather, they bodies were in a metal tube and it was warm yesterday."

"Yikes." Logan grimaced to Falacci.

"Don't get dramatic, they didn't cook." Rogers threw the sheet back to expose the chest. The long autopsy suture ran from the shoulders to meet just above the heart and run down the sternum. "John St. Clair. He took a hell of a beating. Three broken ribs, both hands broken, right arm broken in two places…"

"Did you check him for substances?" Falacci cut in.

Rogers looked up at her, "Both of their tox screens came back clear. Do you suspect this was a drug related?"

"We're keeping that open." Logan covered.

Rogers shrugged her shoulders and moved on. "His wife, Ellen St. Clair. She was shot twice in the stomach, but was otherwise unharmed."

Falacci nodded. "Has his family been informed?"

"I pulled his medical sheets from the Canadian government, the doctor told me St. Clair's son would be informed."

Police Impound

New York City, NY

"Hey Doug." A young man in a uniform walked onto the lot.

"You're late." Doug moved his old frame from the seat and picked up his lunch pail.

"Yeah, sorry. A friend of mine came into town tonight.

"Sorry don't cut it son. I let Mr. Sykes know and he'll be contacting you tonight." Doug walked past the younger guard with a pat to the shoulder.

The younger man sat in his booth. He looked out, the yard of impounded vehicles was dead silent. He arrived a half hour late for his eleven p.m. shift. The moon was distant and didn't give off much light, but the flood lights filled the yard. He tilted his chair back and popped his iPod headphones in.

The young guard had just closed his eyes when a sharp knock on the window woke him. He was blinded by a flashlight and holding his hand at his forehead squinted. The light went out and his eyes adjusted, the figure before him came into focus.

"Oh, man. You're early." The guard rose and picked up a key. He walked to the back of the lot, leading his visitor to a camper with Canadian plates.

The young man turned around, and was met with a small side arm aimed at his face.

"What the hell, man?"

**Police Impound**

**New York City, NY**

"I'm beginning to think this thing is jinxed." Logan stood by the camper, which had been cleared out again.

"Well, it doesn't look like they got what they came for." Falacci consoled.

The CSU team was all over the camper, checking for anything the dogs may have missed in the first sweep. After Falacci's initial find of the one bag of cocaine the CSU team had brought in dogs to find the rest, which they did throughout the camper. Cleverly concealed in the upholstery and walls of the camper's house the dogs had sniffed out almost a dozen 12 oz bags of cocaine.

Behind Logan a team moved the body bag into the ambulance. A uniform walked up to Falacci, "Ma'am?"

She spun on him, "yes."

"The body was Tony Williams, he's the night guard. The supervisor found him this morning." The cop pointed to a man standing by the fence watching the movement.

Falacci nodded Logan, and began walking towards the gentleman.

"Mister?"

"Cummings. Michael." He held out a hand for Falacci, she didn't take it.

"You found Williams this morning?" She flipped open her notepad and started her notes. Logan looked at the man.

"Yes. I received a call from my other night guy, Douglas Furman, that Tony hadn't shown up for his shift on time. I came in and found him here."

"Was he a problem child?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, I didn't want to hire him, but we need people to work the night shift…" he trailed off and shrugged to Logan.

"Other than the camper are there any other signs of an intruder?" Falacci asked, she didn't look up from her notes.

"No. In fact," he paused.

"Go on." Logan encouraged him.

"Well, it looks to me like Tony let the person in. The front gate wasn't forced open, and Tony had the keys to it."

"Anybody else have these keys?" Falacci asked.

"Sure, the other guards, I do, and we have copies at all the precincts."

Falacci noted that and turned away from him.

"Thanks." Logan turned to follow Falacci. They walked a few steps and Falacci turned to talk, she was still writing her notes. "What are you thinking?"

"Penny for my thoughts?" She joked.

"Rate of inflation, these days."

"I'm not sold that Tony let the person in, but he definitely knew him. There's no sign of a struggle…"

"Except for the dead body."

Falacci paused and looked at him annoyed.

"Please continue." Logan placated her.

"So we have someone with access to the keys, or someone who Tony let in." Falacci pointed to the camper. "They come back to the camper, hoping that we didn't find everything and toss it. They don't find it, and take it out on Tony."

Logan grimaced. "There was no sign of torture on Tony like on St. Clair. Tony was shot in the head at close range."

One Police Plaza

Manhattan, NY

"Eames, I'm sorry." Goren said.

Falacci and Logan stepped off the elevator and walked into the middle of the conversation.

Eames was in tears and walking quickly to the bathroom, Bobby was two steps behind her. Alex opened the door and pointed to the word "Women". She walked in, leaving Bobby behind in the hallway looking in a kicked puppy.

"Maybe you should go in there with her?" Logan leaned over and whispered to Falacci.

"Why?" Falacci walked into the bullpen without a thought.

"Don't you want to know what's wrong with them?" Logan asked.

Falacci paused and shook her head, "nope."

Logan raised his eyebrows and sat down at his desk.

They were silent for a minute, Falacci noticed that neither of them were talking and it began to gnaw at her. Finally she broke first.

"I don't think partners should date, it's not smart." She leaned forward in her chair to whisper at him across their desks.

"They aren't dating." Logan laughed, but suddenly felt a little uncertain.

"No?" It was Falacci's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"She wouldn't want to date that." Logan sat back in his chair to crane his neck for a view of the hallway. Goren was pacing in front of the woman's bathroom waiting for Alex to emerge. "That guy is just a walking pile of baggage."

"I don't know Logan, women like the idea of being able to help a guy with his personal problems."

"That's stupid. Are you telling me women intentionally date messed up men?"

"You honestly have to ask?" Falacci smirked.

Logan sat in his chair. Alex came out of the bathroom, Bobby was immediately hounding her apologizing over and over. She waved him off and rubbed her temple, a sure sign he was getting on her nerves. Logan noticed at Goren was getting on her nerves a lot lately. Maybe a switch up would do both teams good?

Logan ducked forward to look at his desk before Alex caught site of him learing.

"You should ask her out." Falacci added.

"Thought you said they were dating?"

"Thought you said they weren't?" She countered.

The phone on Falacci's desk rang, she answered it and had a very quick conversation. Then she rose and announced that Rogers had information for them.

AMD's NOTE – I started my graduate class for Spring and am very busy with reading and writing. I can't finish this story today but will post the conclusion tomorrow. So stay tuned! Find out: What else was in the camper? What happened in Canada? Who was the person in the impound yard? And most important, what's going on with Goren and Eames?


	2. Chapter 2

**Two for the Road**

**Law and Order: Criminal Intent**

**Episode #17 from 2007 – 2008 Season**

AnneMarie Donahue

**SECOND HALF**

**One Police Plaza**

**Manhattan, NY**

"Eames, I'm sorry." Goren said.

Falacci and Logan stepped off the elevator and walked into the middle of the conversation.

Eames was in tears and walking quickly to the bathroom, Bobby was two steps behind her. Alex opened the door and pointed to the word "Women". She walked in, leaving Bobby behind in the hallway looking in a kicked puppy.

"Maybe you should go in there with her?" Logan leaned over and whispered to Falacci.

"Why?" Falacci walked into the bullpen without a thought.

"Don't you want to know what's wrong with them?" Logan asked.

Falacci paused and shook her head, "nope."

Logan raised his eyebrows and sat down at his desk.

They were silent for a minute, Falacci noticed that neither of them was talking and it began to gnaw at her. Finally she broke first.

"I don't think partners should date, it's not smart." She leaned forward in her chair to whisper at him across their desks.

"They aren't dating." Logan laughed, but suddenly felt a little uncertain.

"No?" It was Falacci's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"She wouldn't want to date that." Logan sat back in his chair to crane his neck for a view of the hallway. Goren was pacing in front of the woman's bathroom waiting for Alex to emerge. "That guy is just a walking pile of baggage."

"I don't know Logan, women like the idea of being able to help a guy with his personal problems."

"That's ridiculous." He thought for a moment. "Are you telling me women intentionally date messed up men?"

"You honestly have to ask?" Falacci smirked.

Logan sat in his chair. Alex came out of the bathroom. Bobby was immediately hounding her, apologizing over and over. She waved him off and rubbed her temple, a sure sign he was getting on her nerves. Logan noticed that Goren was getting on her nerves a lot lately. Maybe a switch up would do both teams some good?

Logan ducked forward to look at his desk before Alex caught site of him leering.

"You should ask her out." Falacci added.

"Thought you said they were dating?"

"Thought you said they weren't?" She countered.

The phone on Falacci's desk rang. She answered it and had a very quick conversation. Then she rose and announced that Research had information for them.

**Office of the Medical Examiner**

**Manhattan, NY**

"I just can't seem to get rid of you two." Rogers said raising an eyebrow as Logan and Falacci walked in.

"What do we have?" Logan asked.

Rogers was standing at the table. The sheet was pulled back to the midsection of his chest. Tony Williams was lying dead on the slab, bullet wound in his forehead.

"He died of the gunshot, of course, but what I brought you down for was this." She pulled up his arm and displayed his fingers.

Logan walked around and took a closer look at the fingers. He grimaced. The tips had been destroyed. Filed down with an Emory board, and then corroded with detergent, finally picked at with a sewing needle. "No prints left."

"Exactly, so his identity is really anyone's guess." Rogers said.

Logan stood up and looked at her. Falacci furrowed her brow.

"His id is a fake. I sent it up the lab right away."

Falacci chortled, "You spotted a fake id?"

"No, I spotted a fake organ donor sticker on and ID and I put two and two together." She moved to the head, "the devil's in the details."

Falacci glanced at Logan who was nodding in admiration.

"We're lucky, before this kid moved to the high-paying world of a night guard; he did have pretty extensive dental work done." She pulled up a removed cap to show Logan and Falacci. "This has a serial number on it. The lab is calling it in now."

**Research Lab**

**Manhattan, NY**

Logan and Falacci walked into the lab. Logan never liked this room, it was crowded and the people seldom left it, making them a little odd. Falacci had no problem and navigated her way to their contact.

"Hi Nola."

"Emily thanks for the call." Falacci sat down next to the short women at her Mac.

Logan chose to stand behind them.

"Well, this cap isn't that nice." She tapped on her screen. "It was inserted into the victim's mouth when he was 15 years old, living in Alberta, Canada and going by his real name, John-Louie Berube."

"Great, thanks." Falacci started to get up.

"Oh, you'll want to wait." Emily called up another page on her computer. "I got Carver's permission to pull his sheet from Canada. Petty crimes, mostly just breaking and entering types, but last year he was arrested for suspicion of carrying drugs across the border. He's still under investigation by the Canadian authorities."

"An illegal alien from Canada." Logan mused.

"Wonders never cease."

**Parking Lot of QuickStop Convenient Store**

**Queens, NY**

"No, I have it from the camper." A man in a black coat spoke into his cell phone. He paced back and forth in the parking lot, occasionally looking over to his left to signal to someone out of view.

"Yes, I have it." His voice was becoming tense with impatience. "Listen you get it when I get my money."

He closed his phone and put his hat back on and walked over to the squad car. His partner looked across the seat at the officer climbed behind the steering wheel.

"Are we all set?"

"Yeah, they are going to meet us tonight for a trade."

His partner smiled, "nice. This is a windfall."

"Yeah, but just keep you're mouth shut. As far as they know we're the two they were supposed to meet. And as long as we have what they want, they won't care if we're Count Chocula and Frankenberry."

**Residence of Tony Williams/John-Louie Berube**

**Brooklyn, NY**

Falacci breezed past the landlord who had opened the door for her, and the warrant. She took a few steps into the tiny cramped apartment and looked around. Nothing struck her immediately as suspect.

Logan walked in a few steps behind. He turned back to the landlord, "what type of tenant was Mr. Williams?"

"Good natured kid, a little goofy, but always paid his rent."

"Goofy, how?" Logan asked.

"I don't know, forgetful a lot. Wasn't sure if he was coming or going most of the time."

"Impressive he could remember to pay his rent then." Falacci said from a corner of the room.

"Yeah" the landlord laughed, "but every week there it was, slid under my door in the same envelop."

Logan turned on him, "he never actually gave you the money, and it was left for you?"

The landlord shrugged, but nodded his head. Logan shot a look at Falacci who was sharing a thought.

Falacci turned to the desk with an ancient computer and piles of unopened letters on it. She put on a glove to shift through the papers.

Logan walked into the kitchenette and looked the wall around the phone. One number stood out. It was written in dark marker and circled. Underneath was 01/26/08 10:00."

Logan picked up the phone and dialed the number, it rang twice.

"Larry's Chicken."

Logan smiled, "Sorry, wrong number." He hung up. He walked back into the main room. "Find anything?"

Falacci looked up from the desk. "I doubt this would have anything on it of importance. I've got some notes that don't make sense, but may be something."

"Great let's talk about it over some chicken." Logan grabbed her arm and led her out of the apartment, Falacci put up some minor protest.

**Larry's House of Chicken**

**New York, NY**

Falacci stood in front of the store looking up at the sign in disbelief.

"What do you want to do?" Logan asked as he joined her at her side.

"This is you're call." She said flatly.

"Ah, you're no fun." Logan leaned forward and walked into the single room hole in the wall serving fried up cat, pretending to be chicken.

Logan walked in followed by Falacci who wasn't the type of gal to be upset by her surroundings but as a mother of three, she was upset by the amount of grim and bacteria she was exposing herself to. She thanked her luck there were handy-wipes back in the car.

Logan, who for some reason was now wearing a fedora (ed.'s note – he's wearing a fedora because I just feel like writing a pulp again. Logan just lends himself to being a hard boiled dect.), walked up to the counter. He propped his frame up against the counter looking down into the selection before him.

"Hmmm… What do you think Falacci, what looks good right now?" He looked over to her, hoping, praying for a smart-mouthed answer. He got his wish.

"How 'bout a tetanus shot?" She stood away from the counter and looked around at the customers. If they weren't killed by the bad food right then and there, it was only a matter of time.

"How can I help you sir?" A friendly face asked from behind the chicken carcasses and dried poor excuse for mac-n-cheese.

Logan took a look behind the counter. There was the clerk addressing him and another casting very suspicious glances between mop strokes on the floor. Logan shot a look back at Falacci to direct her attention to the gentlemen so terribly concerned with the floor. He smirked to the clerk.

"Yeah, I'm looking for someone one who may be interested in a camper." The mop's wooden handle hit the floor before he could finish his sentence and the operator was out the back door. Logan ran through the employee entrance and into the kitchen.

A door was slowly closing in opposite end of the hallway. Logan ran out and was met by an alley, with a young man trying desperately to scale a chain-link fence at one end. The man had forgotten to remove his apron and managed to get it tangled in the spiked top, he was half-hanging, half dangling in mid-air as Logan calmly walked over.

Falacci was only a step behind him. She caught sight of the display and had to smile to herself.

"You are either the luckiest person I've ever met, or you just hunt down the dumbest criminals." She shook her head and craned her neck to face the young man, who at this point had tangled himself in the apron and was hanging at a 90 degree angle.

Logan turned and smiled at her.

**One Police Plaza**

**Manhattan, New York**

Logan and Falacci were standing behind the glass watching Joseph Berk talk to his attorney.

Falacci smiled, "he looked better hanging upside down."

Ross wasn't going to let on that he was terrible amused by the entire situation. "Detectives, what do we have on him?"

"Nothing, we have a phone number but this kid is stupid and he's just dying to tell us everything." Logan moved to the window, Joseph looked as though he would cry and confess to starting the molasses flood of Boston to get out of that room.

The lawyer inside the room was a first year public defender with absolutely no clue as to what to do. He was still of the opinion that telling the police everything you knew, right down to your shoe size, was a good idea.

"Alright, take a run at him." Ross stood out of the way of the door. Falacci and Logan filed past him.

On the other side of the glass Logan held the door open for Falacci. She walked in and sat down opposite from Joseph who couldn't decide who he was more afraid of, her or Logan.

"Joseph…" Falacci began but was interrupted by the attorney.

"My client is prepared to cooperate in any way necessary." Joseph nodded his head ferociously at the attorney's side.

"Okay, start us at the beginning then." Logan gave Falacci a sideways glance, "you can fill in the holes for us."

"Tony arranged the entire thing." Joseph started quickly; his hands were drumming nervously on the table. "The camper was going to come in to impound and he was going to let these guys in to pick up the stuff. I was supposed to be there to help, but they showed up early and by the time I got there Tony must have already been killed because I never got let in."

"These guys?" Falacci leaned back.

"I don't know them." He shifted his gaze from Logan to Falacci then back again. "They were some really bad dudes though. Tony was always talking about how they could hang anything on us."

"Hang anything on you?" Logan leaned in.

"Yeah, they were cops…" Joseph had a moment of clarity, "you didn't know that. That should be worth something."

"Do you have their names? Because those are worth something, the word of some chicken-pushing punk isn't worth a James Madison." Falacci countered and leaned back, just daring the kid to shut down. "You don't want to play games here; you want to dig yourself out of this hole as fast as you can."

"I don't know their names. Tony said they were cops, but not NYPD. They were Canadians and they were meeting with people here."

"Who were the drugs going to?" Logan asked.

Joseph looked a little confused. "What drugs? The cops were there to pick up the light bulbs."

Logan looked over at Falacci, "light bulbs?"

**Police Impound Yard**

**New York, NY**

Falacci opened the cabinet. "Nothing here."

She looked over; Logan was stretching to unscrew the light bulb from the over-head. He took it out and rattled it. Falacci heard the noise, which was much too loud to be a broken filament. Logan walked over the counter. He wrapped the bulb up in a dishtowel then cracked it gently against the countertop.

The towel unwrapped on the counter, Logan and Falacci looked down to find three perfect cut diamonds staring back at them. Falacci whistled low in astonishment.

"Well, now how do you like that?" Logan asked.

**One Police Plaza**

**Manhattan, NY**

Ross was standing behind his desk, "we have confirmed that the diamonds were stolen from a safe deposit box in Nova Scotia. The Canadian officials are on their way over to seize them."

"Captain, this looks like there are too many crimes going on at once." Falacci offered.

Ross was again, happily surprised that she wanted to play ball. "Go on, detective."

"The camper was bought at auction by a retired police chief, with every intention of coming to the states on vacation. He could easily get through customs with out inspection. Maybe the drugs were planted at the auction yard as a way to get them through." Falacci was on a train of thought, "but how did the diamonds get there? That doesn't make any sense."

"The drugs were not part of the deal. Unless Joseph is lying, and this kid is way too scared to do that, the drugs were never part of the equation, but it was the drugs that got the chief and his wife killed." Logan continued with Falacci's idea.

Outside Eames and Goren had just sat down at their desks. Goren suddenly shot up, as though in pain and hollered "There's not two of them, there's only one!"

Eames caught on immediately, "there's only one!"

Both then ran out of the bullpen and towards the elevator bank.

Falacci, Logan and Ross all watched from inside the office. Ross pursed his lips "I'm going to have to have a talk; they've both been acting weird since he was back. Maybe a change up is in order?"

Logan was about to say he was thinking the exact same thing when Falacci interrupted him, "Cpt, all due respect, I'll transfer out before I work with that train wreck."

"That 'train wreck' happens to be one of our finest detectives."

"Yeah, who almost got himself, his partner and you fired. I can't jeopardize this job." She stood her ground and that familiar edge came back to her voice that annoyed Ross.

"I won't force anything; they can change up with two others."

Falacci and Logan walked out into the bullpen, "you don't want to work with Eames, do you?" Falacci asked, she had said 'Eames' with a bit of disdain in her voice.

"No, you're a good partner." He sat down at his desk. "Besides, it's not her fault, and Goren is pretty sharp."

"So are switch blades, I don't play with them either."

The phone on her desk rang before Logan could think of a witty comeback. He would like to work with Eames, but he would miss the banter Falacci provided. Logan smiled as he thought of all the one-liners she would bounce off Goren in his slow clumsy manner he wouldn't be prepared for Falacci. He was sharp in all points except one, women.

"Wait, slow down." Falacci was agitated on the phone. "What are you talking about?" She rose, "we'll be right down."

**Evidence Locker**

**One Police Plaza**

**Manhattan, NY**

"They came in, they had id and everything. They filled out the forms, took the diamonds and left." The teary-eyed guard said. Logan stood next to Falacci wishing she would just pretend to be empathetic, just once. "Then these two showed up."

Logan turned to the two gentlemen standing at the door, "and you two are the officials from Canada to pick up the diamonds?"

One stepped forward, "yes sir. We presented out id badges and have a letter of ownership transfer. I assume the gentlemen before us showed you their decoder rings?" He asked snidely.

The guard erupted into another torrent of tears. Logan put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down. "That's not necessary, I'm sure they presented the proper identification before the officer released the diamonds."

"They showed me their ids; I made copies of everything they have." She moved to her desk and pulled out a file.

Logan took it from her and smiled as he opened the folder to see a familiar friendly face. He showed it to Falacci.

"Now all we need to do is figure out, which came first, the cocaine or the diamonds?" She said.

"Don't you mean the chicken or the egg?"

**Interrogation room A**

**Manhattan, NY**

"So." Logan sat back in his chair and looked across from the friendly man who only a few hours ago would have been so happy to sell him some chicken.

"So." He looked back at him.

"We got you." Logan didn't budge; he didn't want to be the first to move in. "We got you on tape, we got your prints, and we got your id. We got you."

"You got me then." He smiled and moved his hands to the back of his head, as relaxed as could be.

Logan chewed the bottom of his lip. He couldn't figure this guy out. Either he was completely unaware of what was going to happen, or he was just high off chicken grease. Maybe it was both?

"Listen, pal. We know you took the diamonds from the evidence locker."

"Great, that makes two of us." He shrugged.

Logan was again floored. He looked back the glass, hoping to find something but it was just his mug staring back at him.

"I'll make this easy, I'm a nice guy." The man sat forward on the desk, both hands placed calmly in front of him. "I took those diamonds and I handed them off to my partner. By now they are on a plane over international waters and out of your grasp. Now why don't you just arrest me, arraign me and have done."

Logan sat still in his chair and turned his head to look at this guy through his good eye. He noticed the one single bead of sweat trickle down the man's temple and smiled.

"You don't know squat." Logan stood up. "Please. You haven't heard from your contact in days, you're scared to death and those diamonds, I'll bet are stashed in some vat of chicken fat back at the rat trap you call a restaurant."

The man squirmed a little in his seat but tried to play his hand close to his vest. Logan only laughed the change in position, albeit subtle was enough to convince him he was correct.

"You want to role on your partners now? Because if you think they are coming to bail you out, you are dead wrong."

The man smirked a little and looked at the desk quickly, trying to not give anything away.

"They aren't going to bail you out, but you have an exit plan, don't you." Logan leaned over. He put both hands on the table and really leaned into the little man, who was beginning to shake a little. "What are they, corrections officers?"

The man's eyes darted back and forth, confirming Logan's suspicions.

Logan stood up, and the little man knew he had lost this game of show and tell. Logan turned to leave the room the man called out from behind.

**Larry's House of Chicken**

**New York, NY**

Larry led the group into his shop. He looked around a little angry and a great deal depressed. He spied the vat in the corner of the room. He nodded with his head, "that one."

Logan grimaced in disgust, "you honestly put them in there."

"Wrapped in a bag. Open the vat and pull the string on the side." Larry instructed a uniformed officer, who pulled up a fat covered plastic bag. He put it down on the table and wiped some of the grease off. Logan took his pocket knife out and put open a section. Inside was a wad of tissue paper. Logan pulled out the tissue paper and looked at the diamonds he had found earlier.

"Little trouble makers," he laughed to himself. He turned and pointed at Larry, "okay, take him back and process him."

Larry resisted being taken from the shop. "Hey, I got more. You want to know who killed that cop and his wife, right."

Logan turned and looked at Larry. There was no chance this idiot was high enough on the pyramid to know anything other than his own name. Logan looked at Falacci who had that, 'couldn't hurt' look on her face.

"Okay, talk."

"It was these state troopers. They were the ones who were going to bust me out of jail. They said they would meet up with me earlier this week. But I haven't heard from either of them. All three of us were in it together. But we were just supposed to pick up the diamonds and wait for them to contact us. That's all. The drugs were for them too."

"Do these staties have names?" Falacci asked from behind him.

"Officers McDonaugh and Donelle." Larry spurted out. "They aren't NYPD though."

**Dunn's State Park**

**Garnder, MA**

Logan stood clad in dirty jeans and a ratty flannel jacket. He sat on the back bumper of a beat up ford truck. As a trooper's vehicle pulled into the lot he stood up and stamped out the cigarette he had been smoking. He brought a hand up to his side and walked toward the car.

"What the hell took you so long?" One of the officers got out and joked with him.

"Things went afoul." Logan pulled out a small satchel from his jacket.

"That ain't it friend." The second cop said, hooking this thumbs on his belt.

Logan turned and walked to his truck. The two cops followed without looking around. It was dark, the parking lot was deserted.

"Might not have had this difficulty if the old man and his wife weren't killed." Logan said.

"They shouldn't have put up a fight." The taller cop said. "You should just be happy those shit head kids showed up, or you'd have been cut out of this deal altogether."

"How do you figure that?" Logan turned and asked. He looked unimpressed at the officers.

They looked at each other and laughed. "Friend, we would have stripped that place bare, found what we wanted and split." He took a step towards Logan, "in fact, I'm thinking of cutting you out of the deal now."

Logan took a step back, "no need for hands on." He pulled out a suitcase and handed it over.

The taller cop took it, opened it and smiled at what he saw. "College education for the kids."

"And the retirement fund." The other cop said pocketing the diamonds.

They turned to leave, but caught sight of motion in the bushes behind them.

"Frack you!" The taller cop spun on Logan and fired once.

The police advancing on the two state troopers opened fire when they saw the spark from his gun. The first cop took a slug in the arm, the second took two in the side, and both fell to the ground.

Logan fell to his knees, his palms were numb and he could feel a cold chill climbing up his body. He fell backwards onto the pavement, looking up at the stars. Falacci's face came into view, wavering in and out of focus.

"Logan!" He saw her say it, and knew it should be loud, but she sounded far away.

**University Hospital**

**New York, NY**

Mike Logan woke up looking at a buxom nurse adjusting his IV drip. He smiled at her.

"Save it handsome," she said and gave him a wink. "You're partner's here."

The pretty nurse left the room and Logan focused on Falacci sitting on the other side of the room. He tried to sit up, but only managed to lift his head off the pillow.

"Before you ask, they're both fit to stand trial." She held up a hand.

Logan rested his head back against the pillow.

"You got shot in the side. It was touch and go for a while, but I knew you were the luckiest person I've ever worked with, so…"

Logan smiled.

"You'll be back in a week or two, desk duty." She noticed the look on his face, "sorry, Ross' orders. He's pretty proud of you."

"How's everything else going?"

Falacci smirked. She pulled up a chair and sat at his bed side. "So, let me tell you about the week Goren and Eames had."

Next week: Let ME tell you about the week Goren and Eames had.

Apology due: I'm very sorry this was broken in half. I won't due installments again.


End file.
